


Denial

by drunkdragon



Category: RWBY
Genre: Asphyxiation, Choking, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Femdom, Hate Sex, Jealous Winter Schnee, Oral Sex, PWP, Post Orgasm Torture, Smut, but mild, but only mildly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-17 09:10:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkdragon/pseuds/drunkdragon
Summary: Admitting it is hard for the both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

The next distinct memory about them is when they’re in bed and going at it. Winter prefers it from behind - it hits the right spots and she doesn’t have to see Qrow’s face. They can just fuck and be done with it.

She’s been less demanding about it though. He’s a good enough lay that she supposes she can compromise. And he likes her tits, so it’s an ego boost at the same time. Besides, it’s not like they skipped the kissing and foreplay. The elevator, the hallway, getting picked up and almost getting pounded against the wall - those moments existed and there was something behind it that she was scared to entertain.

Right now on the sheets, though, it’s just carnal. One arm is pinned down and her ass is in the air. Hips are slamming into the other and both of them are working towards their second orgasm.

But there’s a brief pause. Strong arms circle around her, pulling her back up against his chest. He’s tall, which means his legs are just a bit longer than hers. Her own arms move around his to try and push herself up, keenly aware that he was still inside her.

“You know I’m mad at you, right?”

And so was she. That little welt from when she bit his lip was proof, and holy hell did it feel good to put it there. But she wanted to deny it. To be angry, to be mad with him meant that at least had some sort of connection was going on.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know… but…” slowly, one of his hands slowly travels up her chest before settling on her neck, and she forces her chin up. One hand grips onto the inside of his elbow, and she’s reminded that he’s not just a hunter. He’s been trained since he could handle a sword. There was strength in his frame. “There’s always been something I’ve wondered about.” His hand gave the tiniest of squeezes. Maybe it wasn’t even a squeeze - just his heartbeat coursing blood through his veins.

“Think you can handle it?”

Compromised is the term that comes to mind, and her heart pounds at her ribcage for a moment. Her military thinking kicks in. Of course she could handle it. It was just one more lap, one more set of pushups. There’s a little bit of fear, but it leaves as quickly as it arrived.

“You won't do it.” She makes sure he can see her smirk, can hear every bit of her taunt. “You're too scared."

"_ Yes or no _, Winter."

“You’re a coward. You’re just afraid.” Afraid of what, though? This man was a veteran hunter, and it’s not like he was the one who endangered himself on the mission. It was she who did that.

And then it clicks in her head, right as his fingers begin to softly close around her neck. Each breath is manual now, but they don’t feel any shorter. Each thrust feels a little more profound, but they’re slower than before, gently dragging flesh against flesh.

Winter’s own fingers curl around his arms, trying to keep her weight up against gravity.

Qrow _ is _ scared, scared of her doing “stupid and risky things” that he knows she has to do. And maybe this is just his way of coping with the risk of losing her. If he can feel the pulse around her neck, that she’s still there, then she’s still okay and the world continues.

Was it weird that she liked this revelation? To know that he cared and worried for her in a capacity that was different than what her father and Ironwood provided?

Her hand moves. Leaving the place on his arm, it circles over the one on her neck and squeezes with him.

He pauses. “Winter?”

“Harder, you coward.”

It takes only a second. His grip tightens just a little more, enough to make her almost wheeze. His strokes are hard again, going as deep and fast as he can.

Her orgasm hits and its intense, greater than any other she’s had before. She wants to believe that it’s the change in sensation, that it’s the lightheadedness and the sudden clamp and sharp suck on her neck when he tilts her head gently to the side. That it’s the spill of seed inside of her.

But it’s more, and when she looks at all the cum that spills onto her legs she knows it more than just a one-off kink for Qrow also.

Her father cared because she is an image of the family. She was expected to succeed and uphold the image of perfection.

Ironwood cared because she was his subordinate. It would reflect poorly upon him should those under him suffer or squander their talents.

Qrow cared because she was a person with hopes and dreams and fears, just like he was, and for a moment he was scared that he might lose her forever.

Maybe they would talk in the morning. Maybe they wouldn’t. Still, Winter supposed that under these circumstances there was at least a sense of belonging, that she was desired for who she was.

They don’t talk in the end. Winter has her meeting with the general, and Qrow needs to get back to Vale and report to Ozpin. But when she has to explain the embarrassing hickey and the light bruises around her neck to Ironwood, she swears that she and Qrow are going to at least have some kind of discussion.


	2. Chapter 2

"The two of you had sex, didn’t you?"

“No.”

“Liar. You were out late.” Her gaze is as sharp as her sword. “I can  _ smell _ her on you.”

Qrow wonders how she can ‘smell’ the scent of their informant on him. It’s not like the woman had a strong perfume on her. Besides, he showered after waking up and and put on a fresh set of clothes before heading over to pick Winter up .

She’s imagining it. Has to be. The vigor in which her smaller frame dragged him into her hotel room and pushed him against the wall could only stem from the anger of uncertainty.

Still, it’s rude and it pisses him the hell off when she does it.

“And?” He looks down at her. She’s just barely short enough that sometimes it works as a deterrent. “You can’t prove that I did, and I can’t prove that I didn’t.”

The truth frustrates both of them, and for a moment there’s only silence. But Winter speaks up again, the grip on his shirt tightening. “Before today - did you two ever fuck?”

“Winter-”

“ _ Answer me _ .”

He breathes, stares into her blue gaze, “One time five years ago, long before you and I started working together.” His working relationship with Winter started in the last year, but he still prepares himself to watch her eyes morph in rage.

But they stay placid. Instead another question tumbles from her lips. “And others? How many have you had since then?”

But he’s the one that gets mad. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” He knows he strikes a chord with that because her eyes sharpen. She knows she shouldn’t care about his past before her, but does.

And it frustrates her. In a flash she kisses him. But before he can do anything in return she moves him to the bed and pushes him down onto his back. And when she let’s go,her hands move to the top of her pants, undoing the buttons and belt of her business slacks. Not her usual outfit, but given they were undercover, Atlas gear was out of the question. And when she slides them down along with her panties, all she’s left in is her blouse.

She doesn’t say anything. All she does is settle her cunt over his face and he knows what she wants. And with her hands in his hair pulling his head up into her, he doesn’t really have much of a choice. Qrow sticks out his tongue and she rides his face.

The first thing he notices is that she’s wet as hell. Maybe she woke up horny. Maybe she was horny all night, selling herself on a series of events that she can’t explain away. It’s annoying that it looks to be the case, but he goes with it. Pussy is pussy, and Winter’s was a mystery he hesitated to understand. She was an absolute bitch at times, just like she was right now. But somehow… somehow hers was just better, no matter how many times he dived in. It was different than the regular casual flings of his past.

When Qrow thinks about it, ever since the two started fucking he hasn’t tried his luck anywhere else.

When Winter comes, she makes sure that he can taste it. And after a small pause, she peels away from him. “Take off your pants.”

He likes where this is going and does so. As his cock springs forward, her hand takes a familiar motion and he sucks in a breath. It’s light, just lightly playing with his flesh for now.

She speaks up. “What have you never had before?”

Qrow cracks a grin. “A-Anal.”

Her lips thin, but her brows also furrow. It’s obvious that she’s considering it, but in the end she speaks again. “What else?”

Maybe that will happen some other time. Qrow grunts, chest rising as he’s very aware of the tighter grip on him. “A blowjob.”

A huff. “I don’t believe you.”

“Never had the balls to ask, you know. Luck isn’t really my thing.”

The sensation around his cock let’s up and he takes a second to breathe some air. The pleasure begins to go away, and when he looks down at her, she has an annoyed frown on her face. But her gaze is set on his member, and with another breath she kneels at the foot of the bed and takes him in.

She doesn’t go down very far like in the porn vids he sometimes watches. She gags and coughs a little, and her tongue doesn’t seem to have a set goal as it glides over him. But it’s not like she isn’t trying. He can feel just a little more pressure around the head, trying to go a bit deeper into her mouth each time. It feels good.

And when he flinches from when she feels the slit with the tip of her tongue, she does it over and over again when she’s not trying to shove him deeper.

Fuck, this feels  _ good _ .

Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing, but he’s sure he wouldn’t know a good blowjob from a bad one. It just makes him harder.

With one last pull for breath, Winter dives down again. She sputters and strains, but her tongue and now her hand refuse to leave him alone. A little more pressure as he gradually slides in. And as the head finally pushes down her throat, it’s like he slips into place. She pulls off a second later, greedily gulping down air, but she is adamant and in seconds she’s doing it again, and then again, and then again. It’s better, cleaner, faster each time. She still struggles, but Qrow forgets everything as he groans through the sensation.

And when he comes, it’s with a guttural moan, echoing off the walls. He can’t spare a glance down, but he knows it’s buried deep, spilling directly into her. He hears Winter coughing and gagging, but she stays on until he finishes.

But once his thoughts return to him, he looks down to see Winter wiping her mouth. Before he can say anything she climbs on top. His member is still hard, and her fingers wrap around him and stroke again.

It drives Qrow insane. Her fingers graze the top, and every touch is like fire and lightning and wind and rain. He grits his teeth, his breath hitches. There’s pain and there’s pleasure. His fingers dig into the sheets.

Maybe Winter doesn’t know that it hurts. And as he suffers beneath her, he finally spits out his question.

“Are we a thing, Winter?”

She pauses for longer than expected. And while the reprieve is welcomed, the silence is deafening. But finally Winter responds. "No"

He puts on his best cocky smile because he knows it will piss her off. “Well, you seem to care an awful lot for something you say you don’t care about.”

Winter goes still, but her hand is still on him. A breath of relief goes through his body, the pain and the high slacken. It might be over and it might not be, but it’s the rest that matters.

She doesn’t move for a bit longer, but eventually she starts to stroke him again before slipping him inside. There’s still pain, but far, far less than before. He can breathe again.

She undoes her blouse, and her breasts spill out from beneath the parting cloth. And as she begins to ride his cock, her hands reach down to his shoulder and pull him up. Qrow complies, and when she guides him into her chest, he doesn’t fight back.

She smells of a soft flower, and it’s like it washes over him.

For as much as he can remember through the pleasure and the tinge of pain, she keeps him there. And when they somehow come together at the end, she topples him over onto his back, hands and arms cradled around his hair, holding him in place, lording her shadow over him. They don’t kiss like they sometimes might. 

When it’s finally over, the two somehow begin their day. They don’t talk about it afterward. They don’t talk about it at any point in the rest of their mission. Maybe they never will. But when it’s finally time to depart, Winter to Atlas and Qrow to Vale, it’s the soft flowery scent that he recalls the most.

He swears he smells of her.

And when Ozpin reports to him a month later that the informant has gone missing, he can only imagine.

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I sort of threw together last night. Didn't spend the most time on it, but I also have no idea how hatesex works so like everything I don't know about I write about it :S
> 
> Hope you had fun! And if you want, you can join my Qrowin Discord Server here!  
https://discord.gg/AEcUjgP


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